


If You Want to Take Me for a Ride

by Tasyfa



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, F/M, Guerin is a little shit, Light Dom/sub, Nebulous Well-Adjusted Future, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Voyeurism, do not copy to other sites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasyfa/pseuds/Tasyfa
Summary: Maria wants a specific kind of fun and Michael is happy to oblige.
Relationships: Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 35





	If You Want to Take Me for a Ride

**Author's Note:**

> This just showed up in my head, so I got it onto the page. There is no mention of anyone else at all.
> 
> Title from the Leonard Cohen song I'm Your Man, courtesy of [a lovely acoustic cover by Lucas Silveira](https://open.spotify.com/track/0zRytZyiu6EUT5HjFmSrfL?si=jagBwr6UT7KaymAhB2Fw3w).  
> ~ Tas

When he got out of the shower, Michael found Maria sat on the edge of her bed, waiting for him with an expression he couldn't quite decipher.

It wasn't 'fuck off' at least so he sauntered over to her, bending for a kiss. She met him eagerly, her tongue slipping into his mouth to twine with his before he could make the first move, and Michael made a soft sound that she swallowed with a chuckle.

"My turn in the bathroom. While I'm in there, I want you to lose the towel and prep yourself."

"What?" he asked, taken by surprise. Maria gave him a look through her eyelashes that was equal parts stern and sultry.

"Was I unclear? When I come back into this room, I expect to see you naked, with your fingers in your ass."

"Crystal," he agreed, enjoying her pleased smile.

"Good. Now move." She slapped one butt cheek and Michael laughed, obediently moving to the side so she could stand.

He watched her shed her clothes and leave before he dug out the lube. She'd made requests, once – strongly worded ones, but requests nonetheless. As they'd settled into this thing, though, and learned more about what worked for each of them, those requests had become first demands, and finally orders.

It didn't need a fancy name or an acronym. It was just what made them both feel good.

Michael dried himself off, more or less, and put the damp towel on the empty hook on the back of the door; he knew better than to leave it lying around. He moved the pillows to one side of the bed and climbed onto the other, bottle in hand. Its contents were smooth and slippery as he coated his fingers, leaving the bottle in easy reach as he knelt up, facing the wall, dry hand curled over the top of the headboard as he twisted to press the slickness against his hole, rubbing over the whole area before pushing inside.

It felt good – of course it did – but what made it so much better was _why_ he was currently fingering himself alone in the bedroom. Because Maria had told him to. Because she wanted him to. Because the odds were pretty good she was going to fuck him, and that prospect had Michael working diligently to open himself up.

He was most of the way there when he heard her re-enter the room, and glanced over his shoulder.

"Uh-uh, eyes front, cowboy. Stick your butt out a little so I can see where you are."

A hand on his hip, her body close enough that Michael could tell she'd leaned down to take a good look, and he groaned. "Jesus, Maria."

She patted him as she straightened. "Still not Jesus, Guerin."

He laughed, rolling his eyes despite knowing she couldn't see it. "Yeah, yeah."

"Keep going, anyway. You're not where I want you yet."

Desire shot through him at the possibility of what that might mean and he purred, "You got it."

The sound of her laughter warmed him. Michael continued to fuck himself on his fingers, stretching his ass in readiness for whatever it was she wanted as he listened to her move around the room and rummage in a drawer.

A slight wobble of the mattress as she got on the bed, and then a buzzing sound. His breath caught, rough. "Maria, are you ---?"

"Getting myself off while I enjoy the show?" she asked archly, and Michael huffed out a moan.

"I could have done that for you…"

"And you would have, if that's what I'd wanted from you. But it's not," her smile was audible as one foot traced up Michael's inner thigh. "Right now, I want to watch you fuck yourself, Michael. Do _that_ for me."

"Yeah," he agreed, shoving harder, trying to spread his fingers apart so she could see. He could hear low moans mixing with the buzzing now and it felt like his entire body was flushed, knowing Maria was not only watching him but actually masturbating to her view of him.

By the time a short, sharp cry sounded, signalling Maria's orgasm, Michael felt like his cock could probably cut diamonds, he was that hard.

"Lemme see," she commanded breathlessly a couple of minutes later, and, dazed, he obeyed, splaying his hand so she could visually check the stretch. "Good; good job. You can stop now." The praise washed over him as he withdrew his hand and Maria took it, wrapping a baby wipe around each finger in turn to remove the lube. "Hands and knees in the middle."

"Can I have a kiss first? Please?"

"Course you can. Come here." He followed the tugging of her hands, shifting back and sideways to sit on the bed, and then scooted forward so she could reach him. Maria leaned in to capture his mouth, lazy where he was so hungry, and Michael slowed it right down, let her lead, met her pace. She rewarded him by drawing it out, hands kneading at his shoulders in comfort as much as heat. It allowed him to bank the fire. 

When she was ready, Maria broke the kiss and spoke against his lips. "I'm gonna fuck you."

"I was hoping," he smirked, figuring she could feel it.

"Uh-huh," with that low, smoky laugh that made him weak in the knees. "Like I said, cowboy, hands and knees in the middle."

"Yeah." Only one word but he followed it up with action, kneeling in the centre of the bed and lowering his torso to ninety degrees, ass up and legs spread as he listened to the snap and jingle of the harness buckles. Being able to hear Maria without seeing her hit some of the same buttons as when he was naked and she was dressed; something about the vulnerability of it got Michael hot.

Warm hands gripped his calves and walked up his legs, Maria's legs brushing the inside of his as she moved into position. She placed a kiss on the small of his back. "Being so good, babe. How's your cock?"

"Hard?" he answered with a question, his tone indicating she should know that, and Maria laughed, swatting him.

"Well, yeah. What I mean is, how urgent does it feel? Next five minutes or can you go a while?"

"Kissing backed me off some, so, yeah, I can go a while. However long you want, DeLuca," he sassed her, knowing it would cost him and looking forward to paying the price.

"All right, then, hot shot, I am going to take my sweet time," she taunted.

Whatever smart remark Michael had intended to volley back her way dissolved in the rush of pleasure as Maria pushed inside him. She didn't take it slow, but neither did she push too hard, giving them both a chance to adjust to how the dildo felt. It was a good fit, medium girth, and that more than anything else told Michael she really was planning to take her time. If she'd wanted to overwhelm him fast, it would have been bigger.

"Feels good," he told her, providing verbal feedback like they'd talked about since she didn't get direct physical feedback from the dildo. Michael wasn't sure she needed it anymore but it was habit now, and it wasn't going to hurt anything to say it.

"Yes you do," she agreed, and clamped both hands on his hips as hers began to roll, the dildo naturally pulling out and pushing back in with each fluid movement. "Let me know when you do get close – you don't need to hold back; I just want to know."

"I will," he promised. Michael dropped to his forearms, letting out a hissing at the fresh sensation of the change in angle. "Oh, yeah, fuck, that's good."

Maria hummed in response, a pleased sound he loved dearly, and maintained that rhythm. The measured slap of leather and skin on skin had a mesmerising quality all its own. In fact, the very steadiness of it was what built Michael's pleasure in slow degrees, layer upon layer until he was sweating and moaning in a constant stream.

But he wasn't on the point of orgasm. No, the rhythm was a hair too slow, relentlessly even, and as that realisation flashed through his mind, Michael knew damn well it was on purpose.

"You are a mean, mean woman," he accused, to delighted laughter.

"Aw, babe, persistence is one of my best qualities," she teased. "You've complimented me on it before."

"I take it back."

"Do you really, though?" Maria let her nails bite into his skin where she held him, the small, sharp pain enhancing the experience, and he groaned.

"Obviously not."

"That's what I thought."

She started humming again, musical counterpoint to her hips, and Michael couldn't have spoken again if he'd wanted to, not in the face of her happiness. He let it weave over and through him, a shining ribbon of light, wrapping him securely in the safety of her spirit. Time ceased to exist for the moment; all that mattered was the sound and feel of Maria.

Awareness returned when she stepped up the pace and Michael found himself gasping amidst his moans, "Fucking hell, DeLuca, I'm almost there."

"Jerk yourself off, then, cowboy." It was calm enough but he caught the thread of arousal in her voice and that plus his hand took him over the edge with a broken shout. He heard her swear under her breath as he shook, panting, continuing to stroke his cock until it became too much, grateful that Maria had slowed at his cue, and had then gone still.

He whimpered when she pulled out and she shushed him, soft and kind, her hands gentle on him now. A few breaths on his own while she unbuckled and then Maria tipped him onto his side and rolled him onto his back. "You still with me, Guerin?"

"Ish."

Her laugh was fond. "All right. Let's get under the covers, okay? We can clean up the mess tomorrow."

His gaze flickered over her, noting the wrapped hair and lack of make-up; he'd been too caught in her spell for it to register earlier that she'd gotten fully ready for bed before, well, coming to bed. The thought made him smile. "Deal."

"Good. Help me out here; you're bigger than me." He managed to get to his feet long enough for Maria to pull the covers back and then Michael collapsed onto the bed, moving over only because Maria shoved at him, laughing. "Asshole."

"Yes, you rather thoroughly verified its existence tonight." Did eye rolls make a sound? He didn't think so, but he would bet money Maria was rolling hers right now.

"I swear, Guerin," she sighed, and he decided to let that one go lest _she_ decide to stop letting him cuddle up to her if he kept poking at her when she wanted to sleep.

"Can I eat you out for breakfast?" Hastily he added, "Serious question. The way tonight went was really fucking hot, but now I'm thinking about tasting you, 'cause I didn't get to."

Maria sighed again, but her tone was indulgent when she agreed, "I'll have my coffee in the living room. That way, you can kneel on carpet."

"Thank you," Michael murmured, kissing her shoulder. Maria squeezed the arm he had draped over her and he settled snugly against her back, his nose pressed to her nape so he could breathe her in. 

[Et fini]


End file.
